A Smidgen of Sky (12 page)

But hearing from Lyn was like being tossed a rope just in time to keep the dream afloat a little longer.

 

I
WAITED ON
one of the stone benches in front of the library, keeping an eye on the parking lot, though I didn't figure I could miss a red Ford Thunderbird. What a cool car for a pilot to drive. The name made me think of the Blue Angels—loud, fast, powerful.

Ginger sat beside me, dragging her toes through the grass. I wanted her with me about as badly as I wanted a poke in the eye. But Ben had really wanted to stay home and tinker on his Mustang, and I'd needed Ginger's help to come up with the story of overdue books in order to get him to take me to the library. When he agreed to leave us here while he went to buy carburetor fluid, I figured maybe God was on my side after all.

“She'd better hurry up and get here,” Ginger said. “Daddy's not gonna be at the auto-parts store much longer.”

“Well, if he comes too soon, you gotta distract him for me.”

“How am I s'posed to do that?”

“I don't rightly care. Just keep him away. Tell him you found a movie you gotta show him or something.”

“What if he asks me who you're talking to?”

I bounced my knees up and down. All Ginger's talk was making me crazy nervous. “I dunno. Just think of something.”

“I know,” she said, giggling. “I'll just tell him I gotta run in and go pee. It's not like he can come in the girls' bathroom to get me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Now, what good would that do? Then he'd just come over to me.”

Ginger pulled in a deep breath like she was fixing to reply, but just then a blur of red caught my eye. A Thunderbird turned in off the street. My knees lost their bounce. “Boy, howdy,” I whispered. “There she is.”

“You sure it's her?”

“How many other people you figure are gonna be in a red Thunderbird?”

I thought maybe I should run over, or at least give a wave, but I wasn't sure. So I just sat real still as the shiny red car cruised into a parking spot.

The door opened and the driver climbed out. All I saw was a black baseball cap and a bushy black beard to match. I'm not sure if my mouth fell open or not, but I bet it did.

“Uh, Piper Lee,” Ginger breathed, “that's a pretty funny-lookin' lady.”

The driver shut the door and started toward us. Everything about him seemed long—legs, arms, even his face. He took off his sunglasses and our eyes met. “Hello, there. I'm looking for a Piper DeLuna. One of you girls don't happen to be her, do you?”

“Say no,” Ginger ordered.

I swallowed. “Uh . . . yes, sir. I'm Piper Lee. Are you . . . Lyn?”

He smiled. “Let me guess. You were expecting a wo­man? But Lyn can be a man's name, too, especially if there's only one
n.
”

“Oh, see, I—I didn't know that,” I stammered. And in those few seconds it dawned on me that I'd never talked with Lyn. Never heard her voice.
His
voice. “Well, thanks for coming down here.”

“Glad to help.”

“Did you bring the stuff about my daddy? 'Cause I'm afraid I don't have much time.”

He gestured over his shoulder. “Sure did. It's right there in the car.”

I glanced over at the Thunderbird. “It sure is pretty. Is it new?”

“Fairly new. Would you like to sit in it?”

Before I could answer, Ginger pinched my arm, hard enough to make me glare at her. “What?”

“Sorry,” she said out of the side of her mouth, “but Daddy's back already.”

I looked over to see Ben's truck ease in just five spaces from the Thunderbird. All my hopes shriveled up like a leaky balloon. If Ben found out I was asking about Daddy—and talking to a stranger—he'd tell Mama for sure.

Lyn studied Ben as he slid out of the truck and started across the lawn toward us. Then Lyn tugged down the bill of his baseball cap and said, “You girls sure picked a fine day to visit the library.”

It seemed a funny thing for him to say out of the blue like that. Then he did an even funnier thing—he strolled right on past the stone benches and headed inside. He nodded to Ben as the two of them passed. “Afternoon,” he said.

“Afternoon,” Ben said, before turning to us. “Come on, you two. Let's go.”

Ginger and I stared at each other, then back at Lyn. He'd almost reached the front doors. I couldn't think about anything except how I'd never get my questions answered if he disappeared. “Wait,” I called after him. “Lyn? Wait.” But he strolled into the library without turning around.

“Something goin' on?” Ben asked.

I had no idea how to answer, and no time to come up with a convincing lie. I jumped up. “I gotta talk to that guy before we leave.”

“Who is he?”

“He knows about my daddy's plane crash.”

“She don't know him,” Ginger said in a real urgent whisper. “She met him online.”

I wanted to throttle her. “I do so know him,” I said. “He's a pilot and he's from Savannah.”

Ben eyed us as if we'd both been out in the sun too long. Another few seconds and my chance would be lost forever. I darted toward the library. “Be right back.”

“Hey, you hold on,” Ben said in a voice that meant business. But I couldn't stop. Not when I'd come this far. I tossed a pleading look over my shoulder. “I just need a minute with him, is all.”

I expected to find Lyn in the lobby, seeing as how he was only a few yards ahead of me. But he wasn't there. I hurried through the double glass doors and trotted up and down the aisles, desperate for a glimpse of that black baseball cap. I ducked in between book carts and movie racks and almost ran smack into a library lady putting magazines away. She pointed a finger at me. “You slow yourself down, young lady.”

“Sorry.” I forced myself to walk real calm till I rounded the next corner. I paused for a second, trying to spot where Ben and Ginger were, then zigzagged through the aisles all over again, sure I'd find Lyn on the second run. Why would he introduce himself, then disappear?

A minute or so later, Ben strode around the computers with Ginger on his heels. I stooped behind a display of newspapers and took a deep breath, not sure what my next move should be. I remembered Ginger's mention of the bathroom. Maybe Lyn was in the men's room. What in the world was I supposed to do about that one?

Then it came to me. The car. He'd said the stuff about Daddy was in his car. I rushed back out to the parking lot and over to the Thunderbird.

“Hey, there she is, Daddy,” Ginger called behind me.

I was afraid to look back at Ben. “I'm coming,” I called over my shoulder. “Just gotta get something out of the car.”

The two of them caught up with me just as I tried to yank open the driver's-side door. Ben grabbed my elbow. “What's gotten into you, girl? You can't just go getting into somebody's car like that.”

“But he said he has some stuff in there for me about Daddy.”

I tried to pull free, but Ben didn't let go. He studied me with narrowed eyes. “Now, you listen here,” he said. “I haven't a clue what this is all about. But there's no way I'm letting you take something out of a stranger's car.”

The Thunderbird had tinted windows, so I couldn't tell if anything was on the seat or not. But I had to know. I lunged for the door with my free hand.

Ben growled under his breath and pulled me away. Then he turned me sideways and swatted me hard across the bottom. I hadn't seen it coming and it stung like a whole hive of hornets. I choked back a cry, but the tears still jumped to my eyes.

Ben steered me away from the car and gave me a little push. “Both of you, head for the truck. Now.”

Ginger whirled around and I stumbled after her, the yellow parking strips wavy and blurry at my feet.

“You okay?” Ginger whispered as she scrambled up into the cab.

“Shut up,” I said, and crawled in after her. Ben pulled out of the parking space and stopped by the Thunderbird. He jotted down the license plate number on a scrap of paper. I didn't know why and wasn't about to ask, seeing as how I'd decided never to speak to him again.

We drove through town with Ben scowling and me sniffling and Ginger stone-faced between us, her hands tucked into her lap. I figured we were headed back to their house, but Ben turned up the street to our apartment instead. Ol' Faithful was parked at the curb. Mama must've just gotten home from work.

I kept my head down as I tromped up the stairs behind Ben and Ginger. I knew this time wouldn't be anything like the day at Glen Bay. This time I'd have to explain.

 

M
AMA WAS DUSTING
when we walked in. She took one look at my drippy nose and wet eyes and nearly dropped her dust rag. Her eyes swept over Ginger and then settled on Ben.

“I swatted her,” he said.

“What in heavens for?”

“Better ask her.”

Mama turned back to me, her eyebrows raised. “I'm listening, Piper Lee.”

I had no choice but to launch into the story about Real Investigations and posting Daddy's story online and agreeing to meet Lyn. But I was careful to leave out everything about Tina and how I'd discovered the missing-persons forum in the first place.

When I got to the part about Lyn turning out to be a man, Mama sucked in her breath and put a hand to her mouth. She turned and looked at Ben.

He stepped away from the wall where he'd been leaning with his arms crossed. “I have his license plate number. I'll call down to the prison and have 'em run it through the computer. Should only take a few minutes.”

Mama didn't say anything, just watched him walk into the kitchen. Then she turned back to me. “What in the world is wrong with you, Piper Lee? Surely you know better than to give private information to a complete stranger like that?”

“But he didn't seem like a stranger, Mama. He knew about Daddy.”

“What exactly did he know?”

“He knew all about the plane crash. He remembered it, and he even has a friend who works for the coast guard who was there at the site.”

Mama shook her head. “Honey, anybody who reads the newspaper or knows how to search the Internet could find out all about your daddy's plane crash. It's public record. You can't automatically believe everything a person tells you, 'specially a stranger.”

“You think he was lying? Why would he do that?”

“People lie on the Internet all the time,” Ginger said, sounding like a real expert. “My teacher taught us that in third grade.”

I'd almost forgotten she was in the room. It was the first word she'd spoken since we'd come back to the apartment.

Mama fixed her with a look. “Then if you knew that, I guess it was your responsibility to tell your daddy, now, wasn't it?”

Ginger paled. She opened her mouth as if she were going to say something, then stayed quiet. It made me feel just a pinch better.

“But Mama,” I said, “I didn't give out a lot of private information, not even my phone number.”

“But you agreed to meet him all by yourself.”

“Only 'cause I thought
he
was a
she.
”

“Would it have made any difference, Piper Lee? Are you honestly telling me you wouldn't have gone if you'd known he was a man?” I didn't have to think long to know she was right, and it pretty much left me at a loss for words. My silence seemed to fire her up all the more. “And who gave you permission to ride to the library by your lonesome, anyhow? I don't recall giving it.”

“Miss Claudia knew 'bout it.”

“And I bet she figured you'd already asked me.”

“Not sure,” I said.

“Well, don't worry. I intend to talk with her about it.”

Ben stepped back into the living room.

“Well?” Mama said, not sounding too sure she wanted an answer.